How I met your Mother
This morning, I was reminded of how I met my late wife.
While working in a museum for Bristol City Council, we met on a Blind Date set up by our friends, Barbara, and Alf.
The best way to describe the meeting is to imagine the four of us as points of a square. I knew Barb through Alf, and my wife knew Alf via Barb, but my wife and I did not know each other.
I bought the bookmark, and key-fobs, for my wife, a few months after we met. Our friends never thought we'd be together more than two years; we were together for almost 40 years, we only parted when my wife died last month.
While I was working in St.Nicholas Church Museum, now the Bristol Tourist Office. I was denied a promation to Senior Security Officer for the site, by a man who had only been there a few months, despite running the museum with my friend, Fred, for the best part of two years.
Though I was denied the job, the man in charge knew he had to keep on my "good side," as he knew that I had forgotten more about the running of the museum, than he would know.
Fred, and I, were so good at brass rubbing, our work was requested by buyers as far away as the USA, and Germany. We used to go to the lower church, NOT the crypt, that is a common misconception. St. Nicholas has a Charnel House where the dead from the plague are buried, but it has never had a crypt.
The confusion occurs as you enter on one level, and go to a lower level, this is the result of the church having been built over two phases; the original - Saxon - churh is on what is now Baldwin Street. The upper church, built in Norman times is where people enter, this entrance is on St. Nicholas Street.
A trick question we used to ask schoolchildren is how many churches can you see from the corner of the balcony? Very few people got the answer correct, why?
No matter how many you can count outside, everyone forgets, you are in a church. The answer to the question is from the balcony, you can see six churches. If you stand outside, you can see another three down the road
No comments:
Post a Comment